


Special Delivery!

by writtenfripperies



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenfripperies/pseuds/writtenfripperies
Summary: Marcus reccieves a package he wasn't quite expecting.





	Special Delivery!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRookie/gifts).



“Mr. Ericsson, there’s someone here to see you.”  
“Thank you, Kevin. Send them in.”  
Marcus filed one more item from his in-tray before hearing a knock on the glass of his office door, and as he looked up he saw its accompanying shadow play across the blinds that shielded his office from the newsroom at large.  
“Come in,” Marcus called across the carpeted gap to the door, expecting there to be some late breaking story about a wedding or the weather, or better yet, another head of department telling him how he had done his job wrong again.

“Special delivery!” A voice hollered through the rapidly opening door. Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise. The voice revealed itself to belong to a bicycle courier, his flat peaked cap casting a shadow across an already strikingly beautiful profile and close-cropped hair. The beautiful figure then proceeded to carry a pale square box across the room with an intensity that was at odds with the task at hand.  
“I have a package for Mar–” He looked at the back of his hand –“I mean Mr Ericsson.” He then placed the box atop Marcus’s desk and stood right by it, smiling proudly at a joke that only he seemed to get, the box now obscuring the belt buckle at the head of his denim working trousers.

Marcus pretended to pay his visitor no mind and waved them away with one hand as he signed yet another invoice with the other. This didn’t seem to work however, as before Marcus could reach for the next document the messenger let out a curt cough into his hand.  
“Are you expecting a tip?” Marcus responded equally as abruptly, finally letting himself look at the man eye to eye.  
“I’d like the tip of something sir. Or more than that if you could spare it?” The messenger’s speech grew more and more leading as the sentence went on.  
“Well just this once, but only because you’re new, Mister…”  
“Stoffel. Just Stoffel.” The second time he really emphasised the lip bite on the ‘ff’ and left his lips parted as he leaned over the end of the desk to take the coins that Marcus passed him. As he leaned, the lip of the desk pulled on where his shirt was tucked into his trousers, drawing the fabric taught across Stoffel’s body and revealing a firm and well-maintained torso that couldn’t have come from his job alone.

“I’ll have to ask for you personally Stoffel, next time I need something… handling.”  
“I’d like that.” Stoffel blushed as he stepped around the desk to stand next to Marcus’s chair, Marcus turning to face Stoffel as he did so. Stoffel crept forward to place himself between his parted legs, Marcus’s hands reaching out and snaking their way up Stoffel’s sides, the coarse material of his shirt causing electricity to shoot up his fingers. Stoffel’s body seemed to liquefy as his lips fell towards Marcus’s, his hands enveloping Marcus’s besuited shoulders. A few seconds seemed to stretch out for an age as their lips touched.  
“This is great,” Marcus whispered during a pause for breath as Stoffel moaned back in approval.

The door to the office swung open. “Mr. Ericsson?” Kevin called from around the office door. Marcus and Stoffel rushed to jump apart as Kevin crossed the threshold.  
“I was just thanking Stoffel here for delivering me this… This cake!” Marcus squeaked whilst gesturing to the box and moving to shake Stoffel’s hand.  
“I’ll leave you to it. I just wanted to say that the meeting that was organised for Friday been postponed till Monday.” Kevin left the office with a smirk on his face.  
“Well I guess he knows everything now,” grumbled Marcus half-heartedly and Stoffel laughed back before falling into his lap.  
“You said you had a new assistant, and it just occurred to me that this would be funny,” cooed Stoffel before nuzzling into the blonde’s exposed neck.  
“So, you didn’t consider that we might get walked in on, or that I might get fired?”  
“Half of the people here work for you anyway, and from the look of your assistants face he was into it. You should invite him in here.”  
Marcus laughs at this before asking, “Where’s the get-up from?”  
“It’s a mate’s day off, so I asked if I could borrow it.”  
Looking up for a second, Marcus nods as he remembered a guy in similar clothes coming around last Christmas Eve.

A weight sliding off his thighs brought Marcus back to his senses. He looked down to see Stoffel kneeling in front of him, a fiendish grin on his face as his hands slid down the front of Marcus’s shirt.  
Before Marcus could think of anything to say, Stoffel palmed his rapidly hardening cock through his suit trousers with one hand and undid his belt with the other. He guessed Kevin would have the common sense to not let anyone in until Stoffel had left, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have to be quiet, so he bit carefully on his lower lip while letting his head roll back against the chair.  
By this point Stoffel had already undone the front of Marcus’s trousers and he was now in the process of pulling down his pants. He was then hit by the dual sensations of the smell of his own sweat and precum, and the ticklish feel of Stoffel’s breath ghosting across his now exposed crotch. The pattern of the ceiling fell into soft-focus as Stoffel took the head of his cock into his mouth, the swirling of his tongue causing Marcus to moan out loud.  
Stoffel laughed around Marcus at how much he could make the latter lose control, before pausing for a beat and taking the whole of his length into his mouth. The overwhelming feelings of wet heat and suction around his cock forced Marcus over the edge after only a few more moments of Stoffel’s attention, the rush of the time and location rendering him even more of a puddle of lust than he usually was at this point.

“When did you say you had this uniform till, Stoff?” asked Marcus, collecting himself from off the metaphorical floor.  
“Lunchtime tomorrow.”  
“Excellent.”


End file.
